Rollercoaster (Take 2)
by oneintheworld
Summary: An updated version of Rollercoaster. Stephanie meets a friend who is going through a lot. Please R&R.


Full House - Rollercoaster

NB: I do not own Full House - content goes to Jeff Franklin. No copyright infringement is intended.  
Rated K+ but contains some suicidal content and references of drinking.

Stephanie Tanner lay awake in bed. It was past eleven o'clock at night, and she couldn't sleep. The ten-year-old middle daughter of the Tanner family still could not comprehend what she had heard from her new classmate that morning. She looked back to that lunch at their spot.

"...and that's why I don't want to go back," said Kyla, close to tears. "I just can't do it anymore."  
Stephanie tried to reassure her friend that she could help her, as she had a few hours after school, but Kyla just shook her off. "I just don't want to seem vulnerable. I want to look after my family, but I'm just so tired and depressed." And before she could say anything more, the bell rang and she ran off. Stephanie felt tempted to follow her new friend and try to talk to her, but ultimately decided not to, heading for her English class instead.

Stephanie almost felt guilty for having such a functional - if not somewhat quaint - immediate family with whom she lived. But this girl, she was suffering, she just knew it. Stephanie didn't know how, but she knew it. And she decided that she would help her new friend, one way or another.

The next day, giving an arbitrary dance practice as an excuse for being late, Stephanie headed for school. On the bus, she wondered what she should do to help Kyla. As soon as she got off, she saw two of her other classmates, Jennifer S. and Jennifer P., picking on Kyla and pulling her hair. Stephanie was filled with a sudden rage and walked up to the three girls.  
"Hey, leave her alone! What's she done to you?" she cried out. The two Jennifers turned around.  
"Hey, Tanner, don't have a freak attack," said Jennifer P., somewhat snidely. But she saw the hard stare on Stephanie's face, and gestured to her friend to walk away. They'd pick on Kyla, the fat little redhead, later.  
"Thanks for sticking up for me, Steph," said Kyla, somewhat nervously. "But I can handle those two next time, yeah?" Stephanie hesitated. "Alright then," she said. "But tell me if there's anything wrong."

As soon as the three-thirty bell rang, Stephanie secretly caught Kyla and followed her. They walked three blocks down the road, the latter not noticing the former, until they reached a rundown residential building, with a laundromat office on the bottom floor. As Kyla entered the building, Stephanie hid behind a pot plant on the other side of the street, then peeked out from behind. She didn't see anything, but she heard something - something scary. It was the voice of a man shouting, followed by noises of hitting. There were sobs, and a baby also began to cry from inside the house. And then there was a glass smashing. Nervous but curious, Stephanie crossed the street and looked through a cracked window. There she saw Kyla, curled up on the floor, presumably crying, and lying next to her was a broken bottle of vodka. Stephanie was shocked. She didn't know what she should do to help this friend of hers. But she had to do something. She checked the door for a house number, then the street for a road name. And writing them down, she hurried back home.

It was about four-thirty when Stephanie reached home. The only person in sight was her Aunt Becky.  
"Hey Steph," she greeted her niece warmly. "Didn't you have practices today?"  
"Hey, Aunt Becky," replied Steph, trying to mask her tension. "It was a pretty short practice, which was surprising because our teacher had been planning big for it. Everyone was pretty ticked off.  
"Well, that happens," said Becky, as she fried an egg. "Oh, by the way, your dad called. He said he'd be working late - he's appearing on David Letterman!" That momentarily took Stephanie's mind off the situation she'd encountered during school. "Great," she said, "when's it being aired?"  
"Tonight, it's being aired live. I'll get Uncle Jesse and the boys; you call Joey, D.J. and Michelle, and we'll all watch it together."

Stephanie hadn't forgotten her plan though. Later in the day, while no-one was in earshot, she took the piece of paper she'd written Kyla's address on, went to the phone in her room, dialed the child welfare service's hotline number, and waited for someone to pick up the phone.  
"Hello, child welfare service, how may we help you?" came a clipped female voice.  
"Hello, this is Stephanie Tanner. I'm calling to report a suspected case of child abuse."  
"Alright, Stephanie, who do you think is being abused?"  
Stephanie hesitated for a moment, then said, "A friend of mine, Kyla Hogan. I didn't see anything, but I went past her house and heard shouting and hitting. That's why I think there's abuse going on there."  
The voice on the other end of the line said "So do you know anything about your friend?"  
Stephanie gave Kyla's address to the operator, who thanked Stephanie and promised that they'd sent someone to check on her the following day.

Kyla was absent from school the next day, and the next, and the next. Stephanie began to worry about her friend. Ultimately, a week passed since Stephanie made the call to the welfare service, and overcome by concern, she made an excuse to her family and headed for Kyla's that afternoon. She had a decent sense of direction, so she remembered the way to the building. But she was in for a shock: no sooner than she arrived did she hear that same, horrendous male voice she heard the week before. Stephanie hid behind the wall, poking her head out, and something caught her eye: a man storming out through the door with a glass bottle in hand. He reeked of vodka. Stephanie waited until he was out of sight, then snuck in through the door of Kyla's house.  
"Kyla? It's me, Steph!" she called out as she reached the top floor. Luckily no-one saw her. Then, she heard the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. She followed the noise and set foot on the waterlogged floor. There was a curtain covering the shower cubicle. With all the audacity she could muster, Stephanie pushed the curtain back - and let out a scream.  
Kyla had cut herself really badly. Stephanie, figuring that the shower had been used as a method of deception, dragged Kyla out of the shower, stemmed the blood pouring from her wounds, put her in the recovery position, and hurried to the nearest phone to call an ambulance.  
"Hello? Ambulance please, quick. It's a friend of mine - I think she tried to kill herself. Yeah, she's slashed up pretty badly. Um... it's 2316 Lincoln Avenue, San Francisco. Okay, thanks." The call ended sooner than expected. Just then, in the nearest room, a baby started crying. Stephanie picked the baby up and tried to soothe it until the ambulance arrived. Then, when it did, Stephanie took the baby with her, clambered into the cab, and headed off to the state hospital with Kyla.

The atmosphere was so tense that Stephanie lost track of time. At about six o'clock, while she waited outside the operating theatre, cradling the baby in her arms, a man stormed up to her. Stephanie was shocked - it was the same drunk man she saw outside Kyla's house!  
"What did you do with my daughter?" he demanded, grabbing Stephanie, who was just about to lay the baby on the chair. Stephanie didn't know what to say or do, but just then, another man burst inside. It was Stephanie's father, Danny Tanner.  
"What d'you think you're doing with my daughter?" he said firmly, wrenching his hand between Stephanie and the giant man who had attacked her. The drunkard, a round, bald man, turned on Danny, who was tall and thin.  
"That girl of yours is interfering with my daughters! Only last week she called social services on us! She's trying to seperate me from my girls!" shouted the man.  
"Are you in a fit enough condition to look after your daughters?" Danny asked him, keeping his tone even. Just then, a nurse approached them.  
"Sirs, I think we can handle this now. If you could please abstain from violence, I'd appreciate that. This is a public place."  
Danny looked at the nurse, then turned to his daughter. "Steph, let's go," he said tersely, and led his middle daughter out of the ward and to the car.

"I know you wanted to help your friend," said Danny, as they got into the car. "But you put your own life at risk. You're only ten, what on earth were you thinking?"  
"Dad, Kyla was going through hell!" Stephanie cried. "I couldn't let her suffer like that! She needed help!"  
Danny paused. "I know you had good intentions. You did the right thing by calling social services. But you should have told us about what happened before you went running around making up stories about dance classes!" he scolded.  
Stephanie didn't care if her father was yelling at her - all she could think of was what Kyla was going through. She looked down and shed a single tear. Danny saw this and his face and tone softened.  
"You are a good friend to Kyla," he said, putting an arm around his daughter. "Always pray for her, that she'll get better and that her life will improve. And you're welcome to call Kyla next week to see how she's doing, if you have her number." Stephanie didn't have Kyla's number, but she could still pray for her friend. She smiled at her father. "Thanks, Dad. That means a lot."  
Danny Tanner gave his middle daughter a hug, then released his grip on her as he returned to the wheel. "But you're still in trouble; you'll be going to bed two hours earlier every day for the rest of the month for doing such daredevil things. And you'll rake the leaves when we get home."  
Stephanie heard, but she accepted her punishment. She leaned back in the front seat of Danny's Ford Taurus as they drove out of the hospital.

Stephanie raked the leaves and served her early bedtime punishment as agreed. It worked in a way - she woke up in the mornings feeling refreshed and relaxed, having slept longer hours. The morning after the hospital fiasco, Stephanie, as usual, had her breakfast of cornflakes with milk, kissed her father goodbye, waved D.J. off as her friends walked with her to junior high, took the bus to school with Michelle, walked her to her kindergarten classroom, then headed for her own fifth-grade classroom. As usual, near her desk were the Jennifers.  
"Morning Jennifer. Morning Jennifer. Cool pants!"  
"Thank you!" they chorused.  
"They're the latest style," said Jennifer P., "I bought mine from H&M."  
"Me too!" cried Jennifer S., excitedly.  
"NO WAY!" they laughed in unison.  
Just then, the principal came in. Everybody sprang to their feet.  
"Stephanie Tanner? May I single you out for a minute?" he asked. The principal was a firm but kind gentleman who ran the school well.  
"Ok, sir," said Stephanie obligingly, following the principal to his office. It was a floor above the classroom.  
"Take a seat," said the principal, when they got to the room. Stephanie did so.  
"Now, Stephanie, your father called me last night, reporting a case about a Kyla Hogan, who I believe is in your classroom. Well, she is allegedly being physically abused by her father who is also addicted to alcohol. Kyla, as you might know, attempted suicide yesterday and is still in hospital, but a foster family has promised to take her and her baby sister in. From what I've heard, you were the one who reported the case to social services. You did the right thing, Stephanie," he said, smiling kindly at her.  
"Thank you, sir," said Stephanie. Eventually she was dismissed and returned to her classroom.

The news about Kyla spread like a wildfire. What everyone didn't know was that it was Stephanie who helped to save her. Stephanie was glad - she didn't need to be hailed a hero. She was just happy that Kyla was now in safe hands.  
One week later, Stephanie was outside, playing catch with Comet, the family dog. Just then, the phone rang. Danny Tanner picked it up. After a few minutes, he poked his head out through the kitchen window. "Steph? Call for you. You'll be pleased to know who it's from."  
Stephanie took her slippers off and headed inside, picking the reciever up. "Hello?" she asked, somewhat nervously.  
"Steph... it's me, Kyla," said the voice on the other end of the phone.  
"Kyla!" cried Stephanie, overjoyed. "How are you?"  
"Well, things have improved. The foster family's really nice to me and Ellie - that's my sister, by the way - but I still miss my dad. He made some wrong choices in life, but he was my dad."  
"I understand," said Stephanie, kindly. "I'm glad to hear that you and your sister are safe now. I hope you can come back to school soon."  
And the two friends talked for the next fifteen minutes or so until there was nothing more to talk about. 


End file.
